random.

You know when you hear a certain song, and then see a certain thing, and THEN you can feel the memory being made? It's like something being born. I love it. I love when I can be aware of an association taking place. This weekend I had my new favorite song play, one that I hadn't heard since this trip. And I was driving a new part of the coast I had never driven. I love driving so much, and I was so happy to get to mark this off my list of roads travelled. And then I have the 2 at once; the new song, and the new road together. And in that moment an association was born. A memory was made, and I got to acknowledge it as it was happening. I love it.
I get in the mood to write sometimes. I think maybe this is one of those times. But unfortunately, I have caught myself in it. And NOW I'm analyzing myself about why I even want to do this.
Why do I write a blog? I only want certain people reading it. I certainly don't want my mom or my sisters to read it. But then I want certain friends, and other close people to read it. So, if I want to limit who reads this, then why don't I just send out an email to those I want to be in my mind, and share my thoughts there? Or, maybe it's that I feel "anonymous" this way. There is a thrill in the mystery of who really reads my thoughts; like i'm an emotional exhibitionist. I like my thoughts being seen, but I am afraid of the revelation process. What is that about?
Also, I'm afraid to share my thoughts in the direct form because lets face it, they're freaky. THIS way, its indirect. If you read it, I may know, or I may not. Its up to you to tell me, and I can go about as if I don't know. But anyway, my thoughts are freaky. They replay conversations in my head, pretending they could have gone better. I over analyze each encounter with people, wondering how it could have gone better; wondering if I permanently damaged a relationship.
I think in songs. I think in music. Okay, for example, right now I'm mourning the loss of a guitar. Its an inanimate object, I know. But it represents something; it represents a season. And what's annoying is that i didn't get a chance to know that season was ending. I hate that a piece of wood and string can have that kind of nostalgic power over me.
And that leads me to another point.
The nostalgia.
Time is very valuable to me. I am not like other people. I am very aware of my mortality. I am aware of my limited time. So sometimes people perceive me as overly sensitive, or hyper-emotional. But really, I'm just wanting to make the most of what I have now.
I just want to do the right thing, and I really don't know what it is.
I went on a trip this weekend. I left for 4 days. It was so easy to be gone. I get so afraid to leave. I can talk myself out of it so easily. And then when its over, I miss it. It makes me scared, like, maybe I want to leave after all? But I don't! I'm scared to be alone. I feel alone enough already, and there are people that love me everywhere. I think I'm afraid to be missing what I'm meant for, and I don't really know what that means, so I just look at everything as opportunity. Its irrational. I just want life to be full. I want my life to be full. I don't want to look back with regret. But that takes risk, right? And risk I have.
So, here is a blog. Here is a partial revelation of the chaos in my mind.